


even though you’re telling me to go (i still come back for more)

by cherishmartell



Category: The Royals (TV 2015)
Genre: A sick Gemma is a Gemma best left alone, F/M, Fluff, Liam is only hinted at....sorry!, Rare Pairings, and you have no sense of self preservation, unless you're Marcus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-30
Updated: 2016-08-30
Packaged: 2018-08-12 02:03:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7916143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherishmartell/pseuds/cherishmartell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>it's shaping up to be a miserable night for Gemma; but will things be worse for Marcus?</p>
            </blockquote>





	even though you’re telling me to go (i still come back for more)

**Author's Note:**

> I recently started watching The Royals (thank you Heather!) and got hooked on the story lines, the costumes… and Marcus & Gemma; I can’t get the pairing out of my head.
> 
> Even though (to me at least) these two sound a little ooc, I hope you enjoy this!

“Go away!” Gemma yelled when she heard the patient succession of knocks. Her stomach pitched again and she ducked her head, emptying the contents of her stomach into the porcelain bowl for what feels like the fifth time that night. Maybe it was.

But that wasn’t important; the fact that she was currently ‘losing her dinner’ or whatever the quaint American phrase was, in Marcus’s flat, with her boyfriend of nearly 14 months (10 weeks and 6 days…not that she was counting) standing right outside the door. 

Many things could be said about her (she’s a bitch, she’s gorgeous, she’s shite at poker), but the first (and most important) was this – Gemma was always camera ready; dating a prince will do that to people…unless the person in question is an American who prefers coffee to tea and gets trashed after half a bottle of bourbon. She’d never consider setting one foot out the door of her flat without her makeup flawlessly applied, hair frizz free, and an outfit that cost more than Marcus made in a month. Her mother had always taught her that appearances mattered, that one hair out of place was unacceptable for a Kensington. 

Eighteen years later and, though she was no longer sporting the fluffy sundresses and glittery cardigans her five year old self had been infatuated with, those lessons had held firm; it had taken her nearly 7 months to let him see her in yoga pants and a tank top, another 3 before she let him see her without a full face of makeup; it still feels odd, but it is moderately better than waking up hours before him to make sure everything looks perfect before Marcus rolled out of bed. This is only the 4th time she’s stayed over, but this is shaping up to be a total disaster.

Despite her less than gentle dismissal, the knocks persist. “Gemma?” her name is muddled in Marcus’s sleep roughened, accented voice. Ordinarily, her name on his lips would make her week at the knees; all it does now is irritate her. “I mean it, Marcus; go back to bed.” But her words don’t come across as imperious, or even dismissive. They sound miserable…lonely. So her insufferable, pigheaded boyfriend did the exact opposite of what she asks and opens the door with a quiet _snick_. 

She doesn’t hear him right away; she’s getting sick again, hunched over the toilet miserably. But the warm, rough hand pressed between her shoulder blades is hard to miss; Gemma froze. “You…bloody idiot.” She seethed miserably. “I told you to go back to bed; I don’t want you seeing me like this.” 

She hears Marcus’s groan of irritation so, when she’s sure the worst is over, she tentatively shifts, glowering up at him with bleary eyes. Marcus has seated himself on the cool tile beside her, yawning as he begins to rub her back in slow, soothing circles. “Baby, if you think this is the worst I’ve seen, you’re forgetting who I’ve worked for…and who he spent his time with.” 

“Don’t call me baby,” Gemma whispers, her shoulders slumping with exhaustion as she lets out a groan of relief. Her nausea seems to have abated, for now, but her arms tremble when she tries to push herself up. “Easy, Gemma, I’ve got you.” He said, hooking an arm around her waist as he stands, making sure to go slow, for her sake. For once, she’s too tired to argue as he lifts her up, setting her on the counter before he starts digging around the shelves for the mouth wash. She leans her head back, resting it against the wall while she shut her eyes. She had just started to drift off before a warm hand on her arm makes her open her eyes. 

“C’mon love, you’ll thank me for this later.” Marcus coaxed, holding a cup of mouthwash in front of her face. Gemma shook her head, grumbling a string of mumbled refusals as she tried to shut her eyes again. “Gem, the sooner you get this done, the sooner we can both get back to bed.” His voice is firm, refusing to give her an inch. Gemma shifted forward and, with a baleful stare, grabbed the mouthwash and sipped it gingerly. After a few moments of swishing, she leaned over and spit it out, eyes watering at the burn.

“Don’t carry me, just help me down.” Marcus rolled his eyes, but he helped her down, gently wrapping an arm around her to keep her steady as the two of them slowly shuffled out of the bathroom and back to the bedroom. Despite his exhaustion, and the fact that he reports for work in three hours, he helps her into bed, tucking the sheets around her. He returned a few minutes later, with the bathroom lights shut off, and the waste bin in his arms; he positions it beside Gemma before he finally gets into his side of the bed.

Gemma’s already out, snoring quietly as she bunches the cool pillowcase against her fevered cheek. Marcus can feel sleep tugging at him, but he stayed awake, long enough to kiss her temple. “Ridiculous girl…” he mumbled, yawning as he collapsed against his pillow and finally fell asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> If you are a fellow Marcus/Gemma shipper and want to see more fics with these two, drop me a prompt in the comments, or on tumblr, cherishmartell.
> 
> (I’m still learning my way around, but I promise I will get to you!)


End file.
